


torn between the light and dark

by black_queen (hotch_fan)



Series: Billionaire Philanthropist Buddies [6]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: ... but not really, A Bit of Fluff, Adorkable Little Bruce, Alcohol, Angst, Backstory, Banter, Bromance, Canon - Movie, Child Neglect, Childhood Memories, Crossover, Crossover Friendship, Cute Kids, Daddy Issues, Drunk Tony Stark, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Feels, First Meetings, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Humor, Kid Bruce Wayne, Kid Fic, Late Night Conversations, Long-Distance Friendship, Male Friendship, Protective Bruce Wayne, Snark, Swearing, Teasing, Thomas Wayne is a Good Dad, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Young Bruce Wayne, Young Tony Stark, because Tony's in it, because it's Tony and Bruce we're talking about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9848939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotch_fan/pseuds/black_queen
Summary: Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne may be friends now, but they had a bit of a rough start. It was all Howard's fault.





	1. friendship

They reached the mansion without incidents a little past 2:00 AM after Bruce got a hold of the keys of Tony's Audi in exchange for downing a glass of scotch rather than the alcohol-free cocktails he had been drinking all night. Of course, he had to do more than that to get the other billionaire to leave with him.

The party had been Tony's idea. They always were. And while Bruce hated parties and avoided them as much as he could without looking suspicious being a billionaire playboy, he couldn't deny parties with Tony Stark were something else entirely.

For one thing, they were always away from Gotham so he wasn't forced to work the room shaking hands left and right with a bright smile that made his cheeks hurt. And even if he did have to play the part a little, he had Tony at his side to hoard all the attention and let him loosen up a little.

And of course, being with Tony Stark made it impossible to be bored.

As soon as they stepped into the mansion, Tony ignored JARVIS' greeting and strode past the living room without a word.

Bruce hesitated where he stood, tempted to follow Tony to make sure he wasn't going to do anything foolish, but in the end decided against it. Tony sadly had plenty of experience to function normally while intoxicated and besides, he wasn't really that drunk. At least not yet.

The Wayne heir headed instead to the living room area, declining JARVIS' inquiry on whether he needed anything. He took off his jacket and toed off his shoes before dropping onto the large sofa.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to the side when he heard the soft sound of footsteps, and watched Tony return with a bottle in each hand.

"You promised," Tony reminded, holding out one of the bottles.

And there it was, the way he convinced Tony to leave the party. He promised he would drink with him- really drink as long as they were away from the crowd and indoors. In a secure place where he knew he could let his guard down, even if only a little.

As soon as Bruce took the offered item, Tony moved to slump at his side.

"Well?" Tony questioned, a dark eyebrow arched. Bruce conceded, pulling open the bottle and bringing it to his lips. Satisfied for the time being, Tony followed suit.

Somewhere along the way, Malibu turned, it seemed, into a kind of safe haven for him. A place he could retreat to when he was too stressed and overwhelmed to fulfill his duties efficiently, or more precisely, a place to go when Alfred had enough of his brooding and temper and kicked him out of the Manor.

Things didn't turn that bad often, but Alfred was a master of getting his point across with dry remarks and polite arched eyebrows when he thought he was working too much, both in and out of the cowl.

So, it was at Alfred's insistence that he was here, even if he was sure this was not what the butler had in mind.

Alfred's silent disapproval of his friendship with Tony back when they were young was no secret, and Bruce couldn't find it in himself to blame the older man. He was only looking out for his charge, and Bruce could admit Tony was far from being an ideal role model or influence, especially during his teenage years.

Even now, Bruce suspected Alfred still didn't fully approve of him or their relationship (just like he didn't fully approve of Batman and a lot of his decisions), but he knew for a fact Alfred had developed a soft spot for the other wayward billionaire a long time ago, and the fact he was grateful for what Tony did for him wasn't the only reason.

A snort of amusement at his side brought him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"Oh. Nothing. Just thinking back to the first time we meet." Tony turned his head in his direction. "You remember that, right?"

"Of course I remember. You weren't very nice then," Bruce accused lightly.

"Yeah, well. Excuse me for being less than thrilled by the _forced_ babysitting duties, Brucie-bear." Tony countered before taking a swig.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I was almost seven. I hardly needed supervision."

"You sure about that?"

"Oh, shut up," Bruce took one of the cushions and threw it at his face playfully. "No one told you to stay, Anthony. I was alone in the library when you came. You could have left when you noticed I was there."

"Actually, I couldn't," Tony pointed out with a sharp smirk. "Guess I never told you why my dearest father took me with him to Gotham. Or why he let me skip the boring ass meeting in the first place."

With narrowed eyes, Bruce waited as Tony drank some more.

"It was because of you, actually. He wanted me to keep you away from the study so you wouldn't interrupt the meeting like the last time he visited the Manor."

Bruce had always known Howard Stark had never been to Tony even half the caring, supportive father Thomas Wayne had been to him, and yet, on the rare occasions Tony opened up and shared small details about his childhood, Bruce was always appalled to learn just how different their fathers had been.

"At least I got to kick your ass at chess, right, Brucie?"

It was an obvious diversion and they both know it, but after a moment's pause, Bruce chose to go along with it.

"No, you didn't."

Tony straightened up in a blink. "You're kidding, right? Of course I did! You didn't even last twenty freaking minutes!"

"We played together and you won, yes, but," He added as Tony was about to speak. "It doesn't count because I told you I was still learning to play."

"Excuses, excuses," Tony dismissed with a wave of his hand as he slumped back on the sofa.

"Speaking of which, you never did make that robot I asked for," Bruce commented in one attempt to dissipate the lingering tension. He didn't think they had ever talked about that first meeting before now.

"Oh, but I did."

He blinked. "You did?"

"Yup. It barely took any time at all. I was planning to give it to you the next time we met, but well ... I'm sure you remember what happened."

"I do," Bruce said solemnly.

How could he forget that the next time they saw each other was at his parents' funeral? Tony had looked strangely subdued and had stayed at his father's side the whole time--or at least every time Bruce had looked his way--even when Howard had been deep in a conversation with someone else. The older boy hadn't even once met Bruce's eye, let alone spoke to him aside from the polite condolences he gave him.

It was strange how many small details like those he remembered from that day, even if he could barely recall any of the words that were said to him. Maybe because he hadn't wanted to remember all the empty words and false sympathy.

He knew now some of them had been sincere in their words, but it didn't really change anything.

"Jarvis suggested I give it to Alfred so he could hand it to you later." He added.

"You didn't." It wasn't a question. He knew Alfred would have given him the robot if it had been handed to him.

"Couldn't. My dad saw it just as we were about to leave the house. I got nervous and made the mistake of telling him it was for you. He threw it out of the car and told me to stop with my stupid games." Tony tipped the bottle against his mouth. "I guess he was kinda right, you know. You're not supposed to bring _gifts_ when you go to a funeral.

"I just wasn't sure when we were going to see each other again," He added with a shrug.

Bruce wasn't sure what to say, so he lifted the bottle to his lips instead. Tony was right, of course. With his father dead, there was no reason for Howard to go back to the Manor, and with both of his parents gone, Bruce had been absent for years from events where they may have crossed paths.

A tense silence settled between them. It wasn't uncomfortable exactly, but it was there and it didn't feel right.

Tony groaned, head tipped back and a hand covering his eyes. "You're not a fun drinking partner. You know that, right?"

"I said I was going to drink with you, not entertain you," Bruce fired back without hesitation.

"Well, I don't see much drinking going on, you know,"

Bruce tipped the bottle in his direction before bringing it to his lips.

"I don't suppose you'll be amenable to invite a couple of nice girls to come over to help us relax a little."

Bruce hummed. "Tempting, but not. I think I'm relaxed enough as it is."

"You monster! Why do you always have to take away my fun?" Tony whined.

"Someone has to, Anthony. Otherwise, you'll end up having _too much_ fun. We can't have that, can we?" Bruce replied with a lopsided smile.

The older billionaire snorted, but give no reply.

"Sitting here just drinking is lame, so we should at least watch something or something." He furrowed his brow in thought. "I know! There's a bunch of crime shows I'm sure you'll love, so we can watch one of them to pass the time. We'll even put a fun spin to it and make it a test. Let's see how fast you can solve the murder or whatever," Tony added with a wave of his hand.

"Let's not."

"What? I thought you were a fan. I mean, they must be great to help hone your skills without there being a real murder and shit."

Bruce made a face. "Except they aren't. The last time I was on bed rest Alfred made me watch one of these. The number of inaccuracies I counted in only a few minutes was ridiculous. I went back to sleep rather that keep watching," He added.

There was no reason to mention why getting out of bed to change the channel or simply turn the TV off hadn't even been an option. Tony knew Alfred, after all.

"He said it was an incentive too," Bruce added after taking a swallow. "Told me if I wanted to avoid a repeat of that ordeal I would have to be more careful with my nightly activities."

"Damn. Good ol' Jeeves is a ruthless bastard."

Bruce shot him a pointed look at the offense, but Tony just shrugged.

"Alright, we can watch something else." Tony scratched the back of his head. "A movie maybe? Got any suggestions?"

"Uh,"

"Seriously? Are you too busy with the whole 'I'm vengeance, I'm the night' schtick," Bruce's muttered 'I never said that' went ignored. "That you can't even name a single movie you want to watch?" Tony narrowed his eyes. "Have you even watched one movie released in the last two- in the last five years?"

"I have far more important things to do than watch movies," Bruce replied defensively.

"Bullshit. If you tell me you haven't _at least_ watched the new Star Wars movies I'm going to have to smack you." The skeptic look on Bruce's face made him add, "I'll even go put on the suit if I have to."

"I did watch them," Bruce admitted with a wry twitch of lips. He very deliberately didn't mention the fact that was one of the very few times he had used his name and money for something as selfish and trivial as getting a private screening before the premiere.

"Don't scare me like that again, Brucie," Tony exclaimed, a hand over his heart. "I was ready to kidnap you and lock you in a room with nothing but movies to keep you entertained."

Bruce snorted. "As if you could."

"Don't tempt me," Tony said with a wink. "Anyway, we're definitely making movie night a thing from now on, and that's final. I can't let you drown in your ignorance of pop culture, Brucie. Hell, at this point I think even Captain Tight Pants knows more about current culture than you do. And that's just sad 'cause he's like a hundred years old and has been back in the land of the living only for a few years."

"You have no idea how little I care about that."

"You should," Tony told him. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you be a dear and put on a movie for us? Nothing we have to pay too much attention to," Tony tilted his head slightly to the side. "You know what? Put whatever movie was voted worse last year."

"Why would you willingly watch a bad movie?"

"You've got to be kidding me. Okay, the thing about really bad movies is that they are so bad that they end up being _funny_ instead. How about that?"

"Is that supposed to make sense?" Bruce replied dryly.

"Just watch the damn movie, Bats," Tony said with an eye roll.

"Wait. What about the popcorn?"

"What?"

"The popcorn to watch the movie." He clarified, keeping a straight face.

"You want popcorn?" Bruce only shrugged in reply. "Okay. If you want popcorn you can go get it yourself."

"You're an awful host, Mr. Stark."

"Nuh-uh. I offered you alcohol and I give you alcohol." Tony pointed out with a nod to the bottle Bruce was holding. "If you want anything else you can get it yourself, little prince."

"Fine, but I'm not sharing," Bruce warned as he got to his feet.

Tony snorted. "Right. Why would I even want popcorn when I have scotch?"

Bruce ignored that, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lip as he walked toward the kitchen. Right now he felt lighter than he had in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise we will have the actual first meeting in the next chapter, but this scene was part of the idea right from the beginning and I really wanted to share it too. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. ;)
> 
> And, I'm not even kidding when I say this idea has been in my head for more than a couple of years. I even mentioned it to a couple of people a while ago, but it wasn't until now that I finally was able to write it down. So, let me know what you think!
> 
> This is unbetaed and I'm not a native speaker, so please feel free to point out any mistake you may find.
> 
> The title was taken from the song "Quicksand" by David Bowie.


	2. fatherhood

Tony craned his neck the look at the Wayne estate as soon as he got out of the car. It was very different from his parents' mansion; for one thing, this place was a lot bigger and looked quite old, almost like a castle or even a palace. The building itself looked nice and well taken care of, with its tall towers and large windows. Still, Tony didn't think he'll like to live here.

As nice and big as it was, it looked too much like a mausoleum to really be seen as a home, not to mention how long they had to drive to get here (even after getting past the gate). It was ridiculous! The place was completely away from any civilization, the nearest neighbors at least a mile away.

"Anthony," Howard called.

Tony ducked his head a little and followed his father. They walked toward the front doors of the mansion where a tall man with graying hair and dressed in an impeccable suit of crisp white and black was standing.

"Good afternoon, Mister Stark," The servant greeted his father with a bow before turning toward him. "Young Mister Stark."

The boy smiled a little. The old man reminded him a little of Jarvis. He even had the same accent.

They stepped through the dark mahogany double doors, and Tony couldn't stop himself from looking around; taking on the dark wood panels on the walls, the ornate chandelier gleaming above their heads and vases glowing on its mahogany stands. He had to admit it looked a lot cozier inside, but still too old-looking for his liking. He wrinkled his nose a little. Even the scarce furniture looked antique.

"Master Wayne is expecting you. This way, please."

Walking beside his father, Tony alternated between watching around the place and looking at the butler's very straight back as he walked before them. He led them through a wide hallway, stopping in front of a dark door to the right. He knocked politely and pulled the door open after a moment.

"Mr. Stark is here to see you, sir."

Tony didn't hear what was said on the other side, but the butler opened the door further, motioning for them to step inside. His father didn't offer the butler a second glance, but Tony nodded in his direction before entering.

Thomas walked around his desk and came to stand before Howard, offering his hand with a cordial smile. "Howard, it's been a long time."

"That it has, Thomas," Howard replied with a firm handshake.

Thomas turned in the boy's direction with a smile. "And who do we have here?"

"Thomas, this is my son, Anthony."

The taller man was looking down at him, his smile turning warm and loose, and a hand held out for him to shake. Tony held his gaze and took the hand, imitating his father's handshake.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Anthony. Thank you, Alfred." Thomas added once he let go of the boy's hand, looking back at the butler with a nod.

Alfred gave a small bow before retiring, closing the door behind him.

"I trust you have been well, Howard?" Thomas asked, motioning for both Starks to take a seat.

"Good. Busy as usual with the company, but good. And yourself?" Howard asked politely.

"I have been well, too. Thank you for asking." Thomas replied before turning back to the elder Stark and offering drinks. Howard accepted a scotch while Tony thanked him, but refused to ask for anything. "Martha and I took Bruce to Scotland for the first time last month and he loved it there."

Tony watched out of the corner of his eye the smile on Wayne's face. He frowned.

Howard nodded politely. "Europe is an important market and I have some business with companies there, but I'm focusing on deals with the government of our own country at the moment."

"And you seem to be doing a great job with that, from what I've heard," Thomas added with a wry twitch of lips.

That was all the prompting Howard needed to launch on a recount of some of the more lucrative deals he had closed on weapon manufacture.

Tony sat very straight on one of the chairs of Wayne's study, feet planted on the ground and hands resting on his lap. So far, he was pretty sure was doing a good job looking like he was paying attention to his father's lecture, all the while keeping the bored look out of his face and holding back a couple of yawns. He had heard it all before, after all.

Unlike the chairs in his father's office that were hard and uncomfortable, the chairs here were soft and warm- not that Tony was enjoying them all that much. Not while he was wearing a _suit._ God, how he hated suits. And ties too. The making of suits for someone that wasn't at least twenty should be illegal.

He clasped his hands tightly together to stop from tugging at the collar of his impeccable dress shirt. He knew how much his father hated when he did that.

There was a pause in the conversation, and it was then that he noticed Wayne's brown eyes had shifted to him. Tony resisted the urge to straighten up in his seat even more--if that was even possible--or squirm. He met the man's gaze straight on instead, just like his father had taught him. Starks didn't back down. They never looked away.

Thomas gave him a small, friendly smile. "My son Bruce is in the library down the hall right now. He's a few years younger than you, but you can go with him if you want while your father and I talk."

The boy risked a glance at his father's face. His lips were turned down in a frown and his eyes hard. He was clearly not happy with Wayne's suggestion, even if the only reason he had brought Tony along was that he expected him to somehow stop Wayne's kid from disrupting this meeting like he had done the last time with a hurt arm and tears running down his face.

He remembered hearing his father complain for days about Wayne begin a spineless pushover and his lack of professionalism, as well as his pathetic spoiled brat.

Tony wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea either; spend time babysitting a little kid didn't sound like fun--not that staying here did either--but he knew it would be easier for him to prevent an interruption if he was with the kid. And, he didn't want to disappoint his father, just as much as he didn't want him to be mad at him.

His father knew all of that too, of course, but that didn't mean he was happy letting Wayne force his hand like that. Even at such an insignificant detail. Howard Stark would never agree to something he hadn't been previously consulted about, much less when it involved something--or someone--he owned, like his son.

That and Wayne made the mistake of talking to Tony directly instead of making the suggestion to his father. He said nothing, sitting very still.

"Thank you for the offer, Thomas, but I'll prefer it if my son stayed."

Thomas looked at Howard then, his eyes flickering back to Tony for a second before going back to the other man. "Isn't he a bit young to participate in a business discussion?"

"Tony will be taking over Stark Industries soon in the future, Thomas. He should be learning already how things are handled firsthand." Howard dismissed easily, bringing the tumbler in his right hand to his lips and taking a gulp of the amber liquid.

Tony started to bit his lip before remembering he wasn't supposed to do that. He settled for biting the inside of his cheek instead, watching a look of surprise cross Wayne's face. He very deliberately did not look in his father's direction.

"Of course," Thomas said quietly, shifting his eyes back to the dark-haired boy, a gentle expression on his face. "But wouldn't it be boring for you to stay here with us?"

He held back a wince. Wayne obviously didn't know Howard very well if he was still addressing him and not his father.

"He's a bright young man, Thomas," Howard replied, even before Tony could open his mouth to answer (it was impolite to ignore a question), even if Tony hadn't planned to say anything that could go against his father's words anyway. "Business matters as important as this should not be boring to him. Am I right, Anthony?"

"Yes, Father."

Thomas lifted an eyebrow ever so slightly, looking from Howard to the small boy at his side with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Of course. I did not mean to imply otherwise. He certainly looks like an extremely smart young man," Thomas sent a smile in Tony's direction before looking back at Howard. "And I must admit I made the suggestion thinking about my son too. Bruce can be shy around other kids, but I thought a quiet meeting could be easier for him."

"You shouldn't coddle him too much," Howard advised with a shake of his head. "Kid needs to learn who to handle people. He will be doing business with those same children once he takes over Wayne Enterprises."

Thomas' smile turned slightly strained. "I don't believe I'm coddling him. Besides, it will be a long time before Bruce needs to worry about the company."

The look on Howard's face showed he didn't agree with that, but he said nothing else.

Tony kept his gaze fixed somewhere behind Wayne's left shoulder, looking at the large bookcase placed behind the desk while he struggled not to fidget. He didn't like the turn this conversation had taken.

"You can go if you want, Anthony," Howard said, breaking the silence.

Tony's head snapped up, eyes immediately going to his father's face to search for any clue that told him what he wanted him to do. He could feel his heartbeat accelerate when he found nothing; not a twitch or any sign. He swallowed hard before turning to Wayne who was watching him. He needed to make a decision quickly.

"I- Okay. I think I would like to go. Please."

"Very well." Howard's tone gave no indication whether he made the right decision or not. "I will fill you in on the discussion on our way back."

Tony nodded, holding back a grimace at his father's words. He didn't mind getting involved in the company. In fact, he could spend _hours_ touring around the R &D department watching the new stuff they were coming up with and even longer talking with some of the scientists and engineers working there. Boring and long business discussions were another thing entirely.

"Come one," Thomas told him, standing up from his chair and walking around the desk. "I'll have Alfred show you to the library."

With one last look at his father, Tony stood up from his chair.

The large hand that came to rest on Tony's shoulder made him tense up. Rather than take his hand away Thomas squeeze lightly, feeling the small shoulders loosen up before guiding the boy toward the door. Wayne pulled the door open and called out to the butler.

Tony blinked as the man that received them at the door appeared seemingly out of nowhere just seconds after Wayne called him. It was almost as if he had been just around the corner waiting to be called.

"Yes, Master Wayne?"

"Is Bruce still in the library, Alfred?"

"Yes, sir."

Thomas nodded. "Can you show Anthony the way there, please?"

"Of course, sir," Alfred replied with a bow before turning to the boy. "If you come with me, young sir."

"Uh, yeah." Tony received a nod from Wayne when he looked up at him, so he turned to do as he was told.

He swallowed hard as he walked away from the study. He really hoped whatever deal his father came to speak to Wayne about went well. Tony wasn't looking forward to seeing just how angrier he would be if things didn't go his way.

There was nothing he could do about that, though. The only thing he could do was make sure the Wayne kid stayed away like his father wanted. He'd better not mess that up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Things got a bit out of hand here, so a third chapter was needed to cover the actual first meeting between Tony and Bruce. It was interesting to write both dads and show a little glimpse of the contrasts between them, so I hope you enjoyed this chapter too. Also, I think it's fair to point out I know next to nothing about Howard Stark, so I hope the characterization wasn't total crap. And, even if it was, any critique or advice would be appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and for the kudos and comments. :D


	3. beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This starts directly after the previous chapter. Enjoy! :D

Tony peered into the open door of the library but found no sight of the Wayne boy. He straightened up and looked back at the butler standing behind him.

"Thank you, sir."

"Just Alfred is fine, young sir."

He blinked up at him. "Okay. Uh. Thank you, Alfred."

The older man offered him a slight smile. "Do you need anything else, sir?"

"Ah, no. I'm fine." Tony bit his lip, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He still had _no idea_ how he was going to make sure the kid stayed put. According to what his father said, the kid should be around five or six, and anything Tony could think to talk about would probably just bore him to death.

He had been creating things well before that age, and he built his first engine when he was six. What did normal kids even do at five or six? Maybe he could convince him to watch TV or something, he thought hopelessly.

"I'll just go in, then," He said hesitantly.

"If you wish,"

Tony turned back to the butler with a frown. What was that supposed to mean? Wayne ordered the butler to bring him to the library and he was supposed to go in there. He shook his head and with one last look at the man took a step into the large room.

"Master Bruce?"

The sudden noise made him jump a little and he didn't dare move further into the room.

"Yes, Alfred?" A little voice replied from somewhere in the large library.

"Come here, young sir. You have a visitor."

A pause. "I do?"

"Yes, sir. Now, be a good host and come here to greet him, please."

There was no reply, but a moment later a dark head was barely visible from the back of the couch, and then the kid was walking toward them.

Tony looked down at hazel eyes peeking from under unruly dark brown bangs as the kid stood before him, dressed in a dark pullover, jeans, and sneakers. It made Tony feel jealous, being stuck in an uncomfortable suit himself.

Bruce flickered his eyes from Alfred to him.

"Hi," He said softly, reaching to brush the hair away from his eyes as he looked up at him. "I'm Bruce."

He looked down at the hand the kid was holding out before taking it. "I'm Tony."

"It's nice to meet you, Tony." The boy said politely, smiling shyly up at him. He had his father's smile, Tony noticed.

They fell silent then.

"Can I offer you anything, young sirs?" The butler asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"No, thank you."

"Maybe we could have some cookies," Bruce suggested in what Tony guessed was suppose to be a casual tone. "I think Mrs. Dawes was going to make peanut butter cookies today."

Alfred looked down at him with an eyebrow arched. "You know very well you are not allowed to eat any snacks before dinner time, Master Bruce. It will spoil your appetite."

Bruce shrugged, big puppy dog eyes directed at the man. "I know, but I thought we could have just one cookie each."

Tony wanted to speak up and say he didn't want any cookies. He wasn't a little kid anymore. That would be considered rude, though, so he stayed silent as the butler and the Wayne kid exchanged a look.

"We'll see about that," The butler replied, but the grin on the boy's face made Tony think maybe he had won the argument after all. "I shall leave you for now, but do not hesitate to call if you need anything else,"

The butler exit the library, leaving both boys looking after him.

Tony could feel Wayne's eyes on him a second later, but rather than address him, he walked further into the library. He noticed a chess set in passing out of the corner of his eye, placed on the thick rug by the couch. He came to a stop in front of one of the huge bookcases lining the walls, looking at the books placed there without really seeing them.

He could hear the soft sound of footsteps behind him a moment later but didn't turn around, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

The silence surprised Tony, who had expected the kid to start chatting about whatever it was little rich boys talked about. He made no attempt to break the silence either, but he looked down at the boy out of the corner of his eye. He caught a flash of sparkling hazel eyes framed by thick lashes.

"Can I help you?" The boy asked politely.

"What?"

"Can I help you find the book you're looking for?" Bruce clarified, looking up at him with curious eyes.

Tony frowned. "I'm not looking for a book."

"Oh," Bruce looked down at his feet, small brow furrowed. He looked up again after a moment. "Do you like to read?"

He shot him a wary look. Where was this kid going with that? "I guess."

"What do you like?"

Tony hesitated before giving a reply. This wasn't part of the plan. He was supposed to come here and make sure the kid stayed away from the study, not have a conversation with him about books. Maybe he could pick a book and pretend to read it. That should shut him up.

"I like reading about interesting stuff. Like engineering." He liked to read other things as well, but he wanted to sound extra smart. Maybe that would help him chase the kid away, but not too far. He started eyeing the books before him.

Bruce scrunched up nose, looking upward at the tall bookcase in front of them. "I'm not sure if we have any books about that. Maybe we could ask Alfred."

"I don't need help."

"Okay." He tilted his head to the side. "What's engineering?"

Tony gave him a strange look. "It's mixing different sciences to help you solve problems." He paused. "Using them helps you to create new things or make things that already exist better."

There was no reply, but the expression on his face seemed too serious for a little kid, making Tony believe maybe he was really thinking about what he told him. That was- strange, though he wasn't really expecting much. Boys his own age didn't care about this, so why should a little kid care about it?

"And you do that? Make new things or make them better?"

"I guess," Tony replied after a moment's thought.

Bruce nodded with a little more enthusiasm. "So, you're an inventor?"

"I've made a couple of robots."

"Really? You have? That's so cool!" The younger boy beamed up at him, but somehow still managed to look a bit shy. It was the eyes and the too-solemn eyebrows, Tony noticed. "Are they like C-3PO? Can they move and do cool stuff? Can they talk?"

Tony opened his mouth to reply but didn't get the chance to speak before the boy spoke again.

"Wait! Can you teach me how to make one too?"

He blinked down at him. Once. Twice. That was not the reaction he had been expecting. Not at all. Other kids (and even some adults) never believe him when he said he could make robots or didn't even cared, and the few he had shown his robots to liked them a lot, but they thought he was weird for making them. And teenagers or adults he could actually talk to about that just ignored or made fun of him because they thought he was just a kid.

He certainly hadn't been expecting the Wayne kid to take such interest in this.

"I can't teach you because I don't have my tools." That and he didn't want to risk getting in trouble for teaching him. It was far from a silly game, after all.

"Oh," Bruce murmured disappointed, small shoulders hunching a little.

Tony shrugged, looking back at the books as he waited for the kid to go back to whatever it was he had been doing now that he knew he wasn't going to get anything from him.

That didn't happen either.

"Did you learn how to make your robots by yourself?"

"Yeah."

The boy's head was tilted to the side. "Do you think maybe I could learn too?"

Tony hesitated before answering. "Maybe. But it's pretty tough and it takes a lot of time to really learn. And I also had help," He added just in case the kid really was going to try to learn. It wasn't exactly a lie, even if Jarvis had helped just a tiny little bit.

Bruce considered that for a moment, dark eyebrows knitted together. He finally nodded. "Your dad helped you?"

It was but an innocent question, yet it made Tony tense up. "No. He was too busy," He wasn't able to hold back the bitterness that accompanied the words. That was what his father always said when Tony asked to spend time with him. At least until he just stopped asking.

He couldn't even remember the last time he tried.

"I don't like it when my dad gets busy too. He's a doctor and he needs to go away to help people get better."

Uncomfortable, Tony looked away from the honest and bright eyes. He didn't think a man who took his son on vacations just a month ago was anything like his father, but of course, the kid didn't know that, and Tony wasn't about to tell him. Why would he?

His wandering brown eyes caught sight of the abandoned chessboard the kid, Bruce had been playing with. It was the perfect diversion from a conversation he didn't want to continue.

"Do you know how to play chess?"

Bruce followed his gaze. "Not yet. Dad is teaching me, though."

_'Are you kidding me?'_ Tony thought, barely stopping from rolling his eyes or even throwing his arms up in frustration. He knew it wasn't the kid's fault that his dad actually liked to spend time with him unlike Tony's, but still. This whole thing was just so ridiculous it wasn't even funny.

Tony knew how to play chess, of course, but it was Jarvis who taught him not his father. Because his father was a busy and important man and Jarvis was the butler paid to mind his bothersome son. He liked to think Jarvis enjoyed spending time with him, sometimes, but that was stupid.

If his own father didn't like to spend time with him, why would he? The butler spent time with him just because he had to.

With his mother's help, he managed to get his father to agree to play chess with him a couple of times, but Tony lost too fast for Howard's liking, so they hadn't played in a long while.

"Alfred teaches me too." Bruce continued, oblivious to the dark turn Tony's thoughts had taken. "He's so good at playing chess that he even beats my dad sometimes! And he's going to teach me how to win too!"

No wonder Alfred reminded him of Jarvis, Tony thought with a small smile.

"Wanna play?" He asked after a moment.

The young boy gave him a confused look. "I don't know how to play yet," He repeated.

Tony shrugged. "Playing with someone else can help you learn too."

"Okay," He agreed easily.

They turned around and walked back together to where the boy had been before his arrival.

"This is nice," Tony commented as soon as he saw the wooden chess board. It was old and simple, yet beautiful. With its hand-carved pieces and polished board decorated with a stylized 'W'.

"I know, and it's going to be mine once I learn to play," Bruce commented, plopping on the rug with a smile. "That's how Dad got it from his father too."

The older boy said nothing as he sat down, putting down the knight he had picked.

They quickly agreed to put the chess board on the center table and sat cross-legged on the ground on opposite sides. Bruce claimed the dark pieces then, and Tony took the others with a shrug and started setting them on its places.

The butler arrived before they started the game, carrying a tray.

"I brought you some refreshments, sirs," Alfred announced before placing a plate with cookies and two glasses of lemonade on an empty side of the table.

"Thank you, Alfie." Bruce beamed up at the butler. "You're the best!"

Tony offered a quiet thanks as well, eyeing the cookies. The smell alone was making his mouth water.

"You're welcome, young sirs."

The butler hadn't finished saying the words when Bruce already had a cookie in his hand, chewing happily. Tony hesitated a second even after Alfred left before taking one as well, and the proceeded to melt after the first bite.

Now he understood Bruce's fascination with them. Never in his life had Tony eaten something that tasted this good.

The cookies didn't last long, sadly, but at least they had something fun to entertain themselves with.

Tony looked up from the board, watching the small eyebrows knitted together as Bruce looked down at his pieces, contemplating his move. There were cookie crumbs on his face.

Maybe he could go a little easy on the kid, Tony thought. He wasn't so bad after all, and he even got him delicious cookies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I had no idea how to end this? *winces* I hope it wasn't too bad. Also, I'm very sorry for taking so long to update this. It was supposed to take me just a month or two, but that obviously didn't happen. I got a bit sidetracked with other fics and then life got in the way. Things have been very crazy lately.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the conclusion, and thank you so much for reading and leaving me wonderful comments and kudos as well. :D


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